


Where Do You Go On Wednesday Nights?

by usssamwell



Category: Check Please! (Webcomic)
Genre: Happy Ending, M/M, Miscommunication, but are they gonna do that?, nah, they really should talk to each other, well this is vague slam poetry reading, yall have heard of vague tweeting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-05
Updated: 2018-07-05
Packaged: 2019-06-05 13:34:24
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,041
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15171803
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/usssamwell/pseuds/usssamwell
Summary: 5 Times Nursey wrote a poem about Dex and the 1 time Dex wrote a poem back-Despite all the assumptions one might make about William J. Poindexter, you could often find him at the student bar on poetry night. If you were to ask him, he’d say he just liked the atmosphere that surrounded it. All the people coming together to talk about everything; from first kisses, to lost ones, to even kicking a ball too wide and hitting someone in the head. If he was honest with himself, it almost reminded him of the community gatherings back at home, with only a little more overshare than his grandma after one too many. It made him feel less homesick.





	Where Do You Go On Wednesday Nights?

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you to my friend, Eliot, for helping me edit this. You make me English good.

Despite all the assumptions one might make about William J. Poindexter **,** you could often find him at the student bar on poetry night. If you were to ask him, he’d say he just liked the atmosphere that surrounded it. All the people coming together to talk about everything; from first kisses, to lost ones, to even kicking a ball too wide and hitting someone in the head. If he was honest with himself, it almost reminded him of the community gatherings back at home, with only a little more overshare than his grandma after one too many. It made him feel less homesick. Dex never joined in; just bought one of whatever Rachael had recommended that week and sat in the darkest corner so he wouldn’t be recognised. It was pretty great, truth be told.

That all started to change when a certain linemate of his started to attend. Dex didn’t know what kept Nursey away for so long, and at first it wasn’t so much of an issue. He just stayed in his corner and waited until Nursey was either too tipsy to notice him leave, or Nursey left himself. Nursey being there wasn’t exactly even the problem… no, the problem was that Derek brought poems. Poems that weren't anything like Dex had heard from anyone else here. Poems that made Dex want to draw from his corner and sit at the front of the stage to admire him. Ones that sounded an awful lot like Nursey was in love.  
  
Instead of leaving each week like someone rational (not to mention respectful of a friend’s privacy) Dex thought he’d rather pursue a hobby in masochism. He returned again and again to listen to Nursey fall deeper and deeper in love with this mysterious stranger. It was agonising to listen to his words. Dex scarcely dared pray that they were directed at him, were crafted with him in mind; as far as everyone was aware, Dex and Nursey were barely even friends. It was hard, Dex couldn’t deny that, but he felt comfortable to say that they were in fact friends now, no matter what anyone else might think. Rooming together had helped ease some of the initial tensions, even if all that most of the team saw off the ice was them bickering. They had eventually mutually agreed to stop trying to explain the situation to people.

Dex had thought they were getting even closer, had allowed his emotions to get the better of him, until the first time he watched Nursey walk up to the microphone. He had tripped up the step onto the stage, which earned him a smattering of chuckles from the crowd. Dex had shrivelled inside, but Nursey quickly righted himself, and strode to the microphone. A light blush coloured his cheeks as the light had flooded his face. Dex was stunned as he realised it made him look like one of the saints in the medieval paintings in the books that Lardo sometimes left down the side of a couch cushion when inspiration struck and she forgot about them. The moment he started to speak, though, Dex’s heart broke in two. His words were captivating. They held all of the passion and fight that Nursey held deep inside, that he tried his best to hide under an indifferent exterior. Listening to the words roll off of Nursey’s tongue was almost as exhilarating as Dex’s first time on the ice, and when Derek stopped, Dex felt lost. And so he returned, week after week, again and again to chase the fleeting feeling from that first night,  when Nursey’s words wormed their way inside his head. There was only one word, however, that Dex could find to describe himself; _idiot._

Which lead Dex to today’s awful position. Nursey was back again; the fervour of the poems had continued to intensify over the weeks, so much so that Dex was certain Nursey was now utterly in love. It broke his heart to hear Nursey speak these words. He found it unreal that this person could ever deny anything that Nursey had to offer. One of the regulars had just finished her poem and Dex was taking a drink of his ale when Sandra had welcomed back Nursey to the stage. Slowly returning his bottle to the table, Dex focused all of his attention onto Nursey, not wanting to miss a single word. Nursey stumbled, as usual, and made a deadpan joke that had everybody chuckling where they sat. It was refreshing to see him like this, so calm and comfortable in his environment.  
  
“So erm … I guess I’ve got a new one this week,” Nursey smiled into the microphone, taking a piece of paper out of his pocket and slowly unfolding it. “It doesn’t have a title but then again , when do they ever?”  
  
The crowd chuckled and Dex leaned forward, elbows atop the table, a subconscious smile twitching the corner of his lip even as anxiety made his stomach tighten.

“Shall I compare thee to a summer's day?” Nursey smirked.  “Fiery like the sun and yet... And yet, you possess moments of languid clarity when the breeze sweeps through the leaves and there is an ease that I rarely see in winter days.”

Grimacing, Nursey glanced out into the audience. “This is all a bit too pretentious, isn't it?” There were murmurs of agreement and he chuckled, scrubbing the hair at the base of his skull.

“Alright guys, let me try something a little different.”

He balled up the small square of paper, dropped it at his feet and took a deep, steadying breath before continuing. Dex was transfixed.  
  
“Where was I… breeze? Okay. You brush against my fingertips, my shoulders, my face, my lips… and if I reach out to grab you, you slip between my fingertips… before I even get to remember you were there. Your heat is beating down on my skin again and I remember what it is to burn.”

Dex could only manage to grip his bottle tighter. This one was different to the others, least of all in presentation. Sure, Nursey had been an open book the last few times he performed, but this wasn’t laced in metaphors, wasn't cryptic. It felt raw.  
  
“You are the smell of pollen flowers: gentle and earthy and so inviting; I rush to you as if I were a bee collecting pollen.”

Dex knew that this couldn’t be about him. In all of his delusions, never once would he have dared see himself as gentle. Especially not to Nursey. The thought made his stomach churn.

“When I look at you, I see long days spent on the meadow… bike rides through the park… I see family picnics and taste the sweetness of ice cream upon my lips. I hear the sounds of children playing, an elderly couple sharing stories of days gone by. I smell the sea air and wonder… if I press my lips to yours, will I taste it too?”  
  
_Kiss me,_ Dex thought, _if you want to taste the sea_ _, please_ _kiss me._  
  
“You are the embodiment of summer, of my childhood days and the days I still long to have. You are joy and heat and clarity and though sometimes I say that the sun burns too brightly in your eyes,” Nursey said, looking up. Dex felt he could see the pain in Nursey’s eyes, the longing and the struggle . He wanted to retreat from his corner as soon as possible. “I would never trade you for the fall.”  
  
There was a breathless pause between the last of Nursey’s words and the sounds of applause. Nursey gave a gracious nod before fleeing the stage to sit with his friends, who all patted him on the back and smiled at him wide and free. Downing his drink, Dex threw his usual rule out of the window and left the bar, unwilling to sit there any longer than he had to. He wanted to wallow in self pity and arriving back to the room after Nursey would only curtail that. Once he got back to the Haus he cursed into his pillow, and when Nursey stumbled in two hours later he pretended to be asleep.

 

**_X_**

 

Honestly, Dex couldn’t wait for the week to be over, and it was still only Tuesday afternoon. He had a hellish data structuring assignment  to do for a professor he knew for sure hated his guts… and then there had been practise. He had managed to rip his shirt and he’d played like shit. Now, on top of everything else, he was not talking to Nursey.

They had had a fight this morning, after practise. Their biggest fight since they had started living together. Honestly, it was killing him. Part of him wanted to apologise, was almost desperate to, but his stupid pride wouldn’t let him. He had promised himself he would make an effort this year, and he definitely was, but he still had his principles. He didn't even know why he had really picked the fight; lack of sleep, he had tried to rationalise later; but there was nothing he could do about it now. When he got home in the evening Nursey would barely look at him, let alone talk to him. Everything they needed to work out had to go through Chowder, who was obviously exhausted by playing the middleman. Dex knew he had to admit defeat soon, and honestly he wasn’t mad about the whole thing anymore anyway. It was more of a buildup of frustration over everything else going on. He knew he should apologise. After all, it wasn’t fair to be mad at Nursey just because he was jealous of some as-yet-unknown person. That, however, was a problem for after poetry night.  
  
Dex made sure to get to the student bar earlier than he normally would. Waiting in the Haus was almost painful and it meant having to deal with Nursey for longer than he could stand. So instead he had found himself greeting Rachael an hour earlier than usual, and working his way through his fourth pint by the time poetry night was about to start. He was feeling slightly tipsy, having forgone food before he left. He knew he probably shouldn’t be staying tonight if he wanted to get home relatively sober. He could for sure do without any anxious looks from Bitty when he got back. However, the opportunity for sobriety abandoned him when he saw Nursey walk through the door. He was trapped now. Signalling to Rachael to pull him another pint, Dex did his best to remain inconspicuous before he retreated to his corner.  
  
The night started off as usual. A few of the regulars got up, Sandra would make her lame jokes, and then there were a few new poets introduced. Some Dex had seen before, who had come to watch for a few weeks before finally plucking up the courage to perform themselves. A few of Nursey’s friends had been up themselves but Nursey didn’t look like he was ready to make a move any time soon. Maybe, Dex thought, he might be safe for one night. He was on his fifth pint and honestly thinking about making a move home, just slipping out the back when no one was paying any attention. That way he could go home, get into bed and wake up in the morning to resume the hunt for Advil. After the next one, Dex told himself. Again and again he repeated **_after the next one_** until they were drawing toward the end of the night. Dex, now decidedly the worse for wear, was starting to feel sluggish. He thought himself safe this week, until Sandra finally introduced Nursey to the stage.  
  
“So up next is one of our latest regulars,” she smiled into the microphone. “Give it up for Derek!”  
  
Smiling as he stepped up onto the stage Nursey made his way towards the mic, giving the audience a slight head nod when he reached the crude X taped at the front. “This one doesn’t have a name either, I’m afraid. Here goes:  
  
My god, how I hate you.” Dex’s head snapped up, eyes glued on Nursey. Nursey never wrote negative poems like this, only spoke of love and heartache. The usual ease and passion wasn’t there, it was more… deflated. This wasn’t Nursey.

“The way you snap like an elastic band that’s been stretched too far. All at once and much too quickly. So much so that I can’t pull myself away in time and feel the sting of you for hours after. How you glare at everything I do as if I were some monster you can chase away. I see torches and pitchforks in your eyes. The way you argue as if you have a point to prove. That your plight is somehow more than mine. Than hers, or theirs, or his. You are no better than them. You are no better than me.”  
  
Dex’s heart sank. Was this a poem about him? It seemed like it. Nursey was telling the entire student bar how much he hated Dex and that stung more than anything else in the world. Sure, they had argued, but it wasn’t that bad… was it? Dex all at once realised that he had said some, overly, harsh things. He definitely deserved this.  
  
“How I hate the way the only words you say to me are laced with venom. What did I do to you for you to poison me inside out? Would it pain you to be nice? How you change when the cold hits your skin. You smile at me and I think maybe, just maybe, and for that small moment I am suspended in hope, that maybe this time it will stay.” _Oh._ It was about the person Nursey was in love with, not him. Of course. Nursey didn’t care about him enough to spend time writing poems about him. Nursey didn’t care if he smiled at him or not. “The way you look at me when you think my gaze is shifted. You know it could always be that way, right? It doesn’t always have to be stolen.”  
  
Swallowing, Nursey smiled weakly into the crowd, turning over his piece of paper. Dex gripped his glass tighter, resisting the urge to rush up and apologise to Nursey on the spot. He had given him so much shit, after Nursey was already going through hell.  
  
“The flinch, the slight sag after you realise how long my skin had brushed against your own. How you think it is a secret; that if you argue and yell and curse, I will go away. I cannot hate how scared you are. I understand the fear and doubt and lack of self control but you do not have to be alone.  
  
My god, how I hate you. I hate every jab you lay into me as if I were your punching bag. Every word, and glare, and snap. Every ounce of hope. My god, how I hate you but lord,” Nursey paused, looking up as he folded his piece of paper away. “But lord, do I love you.”  
  
The applause happened slowly this time, no one wanting to shatter the atmosphere Nursey had created. Honestly, Dex couldn't blame them. It was beautiful, it was profound, it was… heartbreaking. Downing his drink, Dex clung to the table a little longer, waiting for Nursey to offer his thanks and leave the stage. He couldn’t stay. Rachael was already giving him a pitiful look and after that poem he didn’t have it in him to sit there anymore. His fight had left him. He knew now that he had to apologise.  
  
When Dex finally made it back to the Haus Bitty looked at him from the kitchen doorway, an eyebrow raised before Dex waved him off. He was not in the mood for speaking about whatever it was that he was feeling. He honestly didn’t know himself, if he was honest. He offered his quick hellos to both Bitty and Chowder, who was laid out on the couch, and dragged himself upstairs to bed. Bitty and Chowder’s eyes bore into his back so he didn’t bother getting himself a drink or even Advil for the morning. That meant bearing the brunt of twenty questions at the kitchen table. Dex simply peeled himself out of his clothes and dragged himself into the top bunk, curling up under the covers to hide away from the world. He was still awake when Nursey arrived home an hour later. He knew it was Nursey the moment the front door opened and someone tripped over the door frame. It took ten minutes for Nursey to make his way upstairs, held up by Chowder and Bitty downstairs if the mumbled conversation he heard through the floorboards was anything to go by. Dex thought about pretending to be asleep again and ignoring Nursey when he walked through the door. Then he remembered that poem and how Nursey felt. Nursey’s feelings were more important than his goddamn pride. They couldn’t start another week on a negative footing and frankly Dex didn’t want to. He was so tired. Nursey clearly was too.

Dex waited until Nursey had finally found his way into bed before he rolled onto his back, staring at the ceiling. “Hey Nursey?”  
  
“Yeah, D?”  
  
“I’m sorry about this week.”  
  
“That’s chill,” Nursey replied. “I’m sorry too.”  
  
Rolling over again Dex slept better that night, feeling better for finally apologising to Nursey. He woke the next morning and instantly regretted how much he had had to drink the night before. Hopefully the rest of the week would go better.

 

**_X_**

 

The week after Dex had woken up with the worst hangover of his life was an away game, so Dex found himself unable to escape to the student bar at his usual time.

Instead, he found himself staring at a one bed hotel room with fear in his eyes. Next to him was Nursey, and the teasing had already begun. According to Ford there had been a mix up and there was nothing she could do; Dex was staring down the prospect of spending a night in a bed with Nursey. Great.  
  
“Honestly, bro, it won’t be that bad. After that coach ride we’ll be out like a light.”  
  
“Yeah, whatever.”  
  
After that they had gone about their routines, Dex ducking into the bathroom first so he didn’t have to wait for Nursey to finish. He laid in bed listening to Nursey bustle around the bathroom, knocking bottles over and cursing to himself. Honestly it wasn’t that much different than any other night back at the Haus. The thing was, they never really had to share a bed before.

This felt different. As if he could close his eyes and it would be a few years from now in their own apartment. They had spent the night in front of the television, curled up on the couch, and retired to their bed together. Dex had turned the lights off, Nursey had brushed his teeth amongst their shared products, and then they’d fallen under the sheets together and slept side by side as if it were second nature. Though, he had to remind himself, this wasn’t their apartment. They hadn’t just watched television and decided what to do with the curtains in the kitchen. It wasn’t their bed. It was a hotel room, and they were just friends, and Dex needed to wake the fuck up. As he laid there, eyes screwed shut, he could feel a pair of eyes staring at him.  
  
“Will you come to bed already, Derek ?” Dex groaned. “You’re making me nervous.”  
  
“Oh I’m Derek now, am I?”  
  
“Shut up and get in the bed or you’re sleeping in the hallway.” Dex turned on his side, facing away so he could block out the sight of Nursey climbing into bed with him. “And get the lights, will ya.”  
  
Plunged into darkness and with the added warmth of Nursey by his side, Dex didn’t get much rest that night.  
  
This also meant, however, he received much of the same treatment over the following week. Every night when he fell asleep he dreamt of the added weight next to him. Of warmth engulfing him and the strong smell of Nursey’s shampoo on the pillow next to him. Waking up from his dreams was like waking up empty.

Honestly, it had been a new form of hell. Especially when Nursey was mere feet below him. There had been a couple of nights where he just didn’t come home though, and those were definitely the hardest for Dex to deal with. Without the low, even breathing to settle him, he spent hours staring at the ceiling before exhaustion claimed him each night.

When he found himself at poetry night that week, he found himself so frazzled that he skipped the beer and went straight for the neat vodka instead, praying that it would help him sleep easier that night. He was taking it slower than the last time he was here, not wanting a repeat performance of Bitty’s quiet reproach and concern.  
  
The night passed as it usually did. He caught up with Rachael at the bar, laughed at Sandra’s lame jokes and commentary, listened respectfully to the poems, and overall hid in his corner away from everyone else. Now, as per usual, he was watching Nursey take to the stage with another unnamed poem.

“I haven’t slept in days,” Nursey sighed into the microphone. “Find myself tossing in sheets. Too hot. Too cold. Too much and not enough of anything”

The bitter laugh that echoed in the room broke Dex’s heart. How many times was this boy going to break him?

“If I lay too still I feel myself being sucked in. Falling and grasping and stuck: stuck in the memory of your face on the pillow next to mine”

_Oh_ , thought Dex, _that’s where he’s been this week._  
  
“That night I had crept slowly to bed, trying to calm the beating in my chest. A fumbled night with you by my side. Me, struggling to keep my mind from wandering but you had called for me to come to bed, that I was making you nervous and I let reality slip away like silky sheets between my hands…”  
  
Whoever that person was had said something similar to Dex, and he hated it. Hated how they didn’t appreciate how in love with them Nursey obviously was. Hated whoever was lucky enough to share a bed with that beautiful man, a man who adored them. Dex hated them. He knew he had no right to, that Nursey was not his and had his own life and feelings but _lord, did it sting._  
  
“I slept deeper that night than I have since the day I found out that monsters didn’t just live under my bed. There was no darkness, or doubt, or dread of tomorrow. Just the sound of your breath and our combined heat shared under one patterned sheet. I laid there the next morning clinging to my delusions of how it could be; I would never have to be cold again. But then you dragged yourself away from our life, of our future apartment and arguments about curtains and pets, and left me stuck in the reality that this could never truly be. That this was convenience and practicality and we would now return to our usual roles.”  
  
Dex’s heart went out to Nursey; he understood the pain he was going through. It was how he felt in the hotel room that night. It was as if Nursey was looking inside his head, as per usual. Taking his words and crafting them into something poetically devastating.  
  
“When you emerged you smiled and threw a friendly comment at my feet. I rushed into the bathroom and washed my dreams away.” The sigh that escaped Nursey’s lips was dejected and broken and it broke Dex’s heart all over again. He never wanted to hear that sound again. “Thank you.”  
  
After the cheers from Nursey’s friends died down, Dex didn’t really pay attention to the rest of the night. He did notice Nursey leaving, though . Dex decided to stay a little longer to share a drink with Rachael at the bar, who just patted his arm and gave him a sympathetic nod. He then dragged himself home to find Nursey in their room already. At least he had come home tonight. He fumbled through his night time routines and crawled up the ladder into bed, hoping he would be able to get some rest. It was then that he heard Derek roll over. 

“Hey Dex?”  
  
“Yeah, Nurse?” He sighed.  
  
“Where do you go on Wednesday nights?”  
  
“Nowhere,” he lied.  
  
“Hey Dex?”  
  
“Yeah, Nurse?”  
  
“Would you prefer to own a cat or a dog?”  
  
“Both. Nurse?”  
  
“Yeah?”  
  
“Go the fuck to sleep.”  
  
“Alright,” Nursey chuckled. “Night, Dex.”  
  
“Night, Nurse.”  
  
Sleep was a little easier that night.

 

**_X_**

  
The past week had been better than the last. Nursey had started to come back to the room more, was littering the place with his usual mess of papers and books and, somehow, leaves. It was frustrating but it felt right. On his end, Dex was trying to be more accommodating to Nursey ; giving him space, arguing less ; and it appeared to be helping. They looked like they were getting on better on the ice as well. Practise was even better than it had been the week before. Each pass was connecting as if they were as one. Nursey had even hugged him once after a beautiful assist. It had made his skin burn.  
  
By the time Wednesday rolled around , Dex was relaxed enough to finally enjoy poetry night. Not having to worry about the strain of the past week was a relief . Walking into the bar an hour early , he stood and talked with Rachael for a good twenty minutes. It was good to just sit there and catch up, having neglected doing so for a few weeks. He had been too self absorbed and luckily for him Rachael understood. Studies had been rough for her lately so she too had felt the need to have some alone time , even if that meant not talking to a friend for a while . After ordering his beer he agreed to arrange some time for them to go and get coffee at Annie’s , before making his way to his corner table.  
  
From there he watched everyone begin to pile in, saw Sandra work around the stage getting everything ready. At the side he could see Fashia fumbling through her papers, and at the bar Hamza was still scribbling away on a napkin in some mad rush. It was the usual busyness that surrounded the bar every week . It was comforting to hear the babble of everyone coming together. It felt like the parties at home when everyone would come together to celebrate some christening or wedding in the town.  
  
Dex heard Nursey enter before he saw him. The echo of his laugh bounced off of the walls and warmed Dex’s core. It was good to see him at ease. Dex watched from his corner as Nursey and his friends settled themselves into their usual table near the front, laughing with the others that milled around the front of the stage. By the time that Sandra hushed the crowd everyone was comfortable in their position. As they kicked off, the usual people were welcomed to the stage. Hamza fiddled through his pockets, shuffling through numerous napkins and receipts until he found the right one he wanted to read that night. Maria had somehow written a stunning poem that was about the colour blue? Or perhaps loneliness being an overwhelming wash of colour? Maybe? Dex wasn’t sure. He liked it anyway. Eventually it got to a point in the evening which saw Nursey walking up towards the microphone and Dex sat backwards, waiting for the words to wash over him. For the poem with no name to whisper in his ear.  
  
“The first time I stepped into a rink I was transfixed. The chill on my skin, the noise my skates made on the ice, it made a nest inside of me and I knew that I was home.” Dex sucked a breath in. That was exactly the feeling. Of stepping onto the rink the first time. The smell of sweat clinging to the seats and the air too cold, but not cold enough, and yet? Yet it felt like home. Nursey had managed to described it perfectly.  
  
“Being with you is the same. I still hear the scratching of my skates, but this time it is accompanied by the sound of yours. The thump of your stick on the ice, of you calling out my name. There... you are a part of me. An extension of my soul. As if we were separate in our creation and only in the dim light of the arena do we become whole again.” Nursey smiled, staring softly at the paper in his hand. “Outside we seem to tear apart as if we were nothing.   When I was young I thought the ice was home. That I was safe encased in its frost, but as I grew to know you I realised home was by your side. That I was never complete until my stick became an extension of my arm calling out to you.”  
  
Sitting at his table Dex began to clench his hands. His delusions clouded his judgement. Who else could this poem be about? Who else did Nursey play side by side with? There was only him. It couldn’t be, could it ? All those poems, those words, those sleepless nights; he couldn’t be the cause. Couldn’t be the one that Nursey was in love with. _Right?_

“I long for the days we drag ourselves from our slumber to see the sun rise through that dusted window where we are joined,” Nursey looked up, smiling into the crowd as if he was staring right at Dex. “And I am home again.”  
  
Instead of waiting for the applause this time Dex stood up and ran out of there as quickly as he could, obviously drawing some attention to himself as he made a beeline for the door. This time, however, he couldn’t bring himself to care about his anonymity. He just had to get out of that room. To get himself together and figure out everything he had just listened to. Nursey must have noticed him leave. Did he recognise him? Crap. Walking towards the river Dex tried to steady his breathing, realising he had gotten himself too worked up. Having a panic attack in the Quad would not be the best way to spend his night. Finally feeling like he had created enough distance between himself and the bar, Dex sat down on the grass and stared at the water.  
  
Nursey’s words were about him. No doubt about it. There was no one else on the team that Nursey was as close with on the ice. They were D-men. They were inseparable. Both able to read the other’s movement and match accordingly. Off the ice, it was as if Dex was missing a limb. Sure, they were friends, and it wasn’t ever as bad as those first few months, but they were obviously not as close. Every early morning they dragged themselves out of bed for practise they’d watch the sun shining through the window. Nursey would comment on the lingering dust on those ancient high windows every single time. So, yeah, the poem was about him... but if that was the case, then what about the others? This poem spoke of the same person . Spoke of love and a feeling of belonging and frustration. Dex didn’t feel worthy of so much love.  
  
Thinking back on some of the other poems Nursey had delivered, it was becoming easier to see the connections. The one he argued with, the week they had hardly talked. The one he shared a bed with. Dex had said the exact same; “come to bed, you’re making me nervous”. He was fiery, and like the sea, and always clicking away. All those weeks of jealousy and pining and just plain misery were for nothing. Nursey loved him? Liked him for sure.

Smiling at the revelation, Dex pulled his knees to his chest and pondered what he would do next. Probably nothing. He’d let Nursey come to him of his own accord. After all, it wasn’t like Dex was meant to hear those poems. Was he? 

Finally his breathing relaxed, and confident he’d be fine to make it home, Dex brought himself to his feet and began the trudge back to the Haus. The air was calm and cool against his skin and Dex was thankful for it. When he finally got home he decided he wasn’t in the mood for bed just yet. Chowder was watching a movie on the couch and although there was no sign of Bitty, the smell of pie indicated he had been here recently. Ollie was sat at the kitchen table, typing away at his laptop. Joining Chowder on the couch he brought one of the pillows to his chest and lent against Chowder’s arm.  He wasn’t sure what movie he was watching but thankfully, Chowder didn’t mind him joining.  
  
When Nursey got home Dex did his best to appear none the wiser, before Nursey started loudly complaining that they neglected to tell him about Frog Movie Night. He proceeded to wedge his way in between the pair of them on the couch . Mumbling under his breath, Dex moved over and let Nursey rest his head against him. It was hours later when the rest of the Haus was asleep, Chowder having escaped thirty minutes ago and Ollie even earlier, that Dex finally nudged Nursey awake and dragged him up to their room for bed.  
  
“Night night, Dexy.” Nursey yawned as he climbed into bed, stripped down to his boxers.  
  
“Night, Nurse,” Dex smiled as he climbed into his own bed. He had a lot to think about, to decide, but it didn’t matter right then. Right then, he just knew that Nursey liked him and that was all that mattered. That night, his dreams were sweet.

 

**_X_**

 

If he had to pinpoint the moment it all went to shit, it would be Saturday night. It was one of those rare nights where it had just been the two of them on top of the reading roof, swapping stories about classes and the occasional memory of home. The last few weeks had been great for their friendship. Perhaps it was living together that helped them strengthen their bond further. It had been less stressful, to say the least. They had been playing better on ice as well. The puck was just connecting, as if they always knew exactly where the other was. Then, of course, there was Dex’s realisation from Wednesday night. Nursey liked him back and he could honestly say now that his life was perfect. As he watched Nursey ramble on about something his professor had said the previous week Dex couldn’t help but fall even deeper in love. Nursey’s skin was glowing in the moonlight and Dex wanted to run his hands across every inch. It was hard to pay attention to anything but the way his lips would move when he was excited. So much so, that he missed whatever it was that Nursey had asked him… so Dex did the first thing that came into his head. He kissed him.  
  
Dex opened himself up, giving his all over to Nursey to show him how much he cared; praying that he had read this right, all the weeks of listening to Nursey fall in love, opening his heart, the small touches in practise, the morning coffees and later night talks, that last poem; it had to be him. Placing his hand on Nursey’s he pulled his lips away and held his breath. At first, Nursey did nothing. He stared at Dex as if he has asked him what they were going to have for dinner. He gripped Nursey’s hand in the hope that it would bring him back to reality. Instead it all went to shit when Nursey pulled his hand away and climbed through the window, away from Dex. At first Dex just sat there; too shocked to do anything, until he stood up to follow Nursey into the room. The only problem was that Nursey wasn’t there. Nor was his bag. Dex had kissed him and Nursey had run away. His knees buckling, Dex sat on Nursey’s bed and sobbed until he realised Nursey wasn’t coming home.  
  
The rest of the week continued to get worse. He hardly saw Nursey, only managing to catch him when they were both passing through doorways, both of them either coming or going. Nursey would come home so late that Dex was already asleep, and in the morning would leave before Dex had even lifted his head. He didn’t come to team breakfast, or movie night,  and at practise they were playing as if it was freshman year all over again. Nursey was probably spending more time with the person he was actually writing about, and all the while, Dex was dying inside. Nursey shouldn’t have to give up anything just because he read a situation wrong. It was Dex’s fault not his own, couldn’t he see that? Dex just wished Nursey would stay for longer than five minutes so he could give Nursey the space instead. Dex was sure he could crash at his friend’s room. Chowder had been giving him concerned looks and at one point tried to corner him, but he wasn’t in the mood for a heart to heart, however well intentioned . When poetry night finally came around, Dex was reluctant to go. At this point it had become ritual. Almost compulsion . Besides, Rachael knew his schedule. If he missed a week her phone calls would be constant. Yanking on his jacket, he made his way to the bar and prayed he would be able to leave before Nursey would step up to the mic.  
  
After a while, he realised that going to the bar was probably a good idea after all. Rachael had managed to get him to smile for the first time since Saturday, and whatever the hell she had knocked up for him was fucking delicious. One of these days he’d actually have to pick his own drink and he’d be stuck. Hamza had popped over to say hello and he’d somehow got dragged into helping build an art project next semester. He managed to say a quick hello to Sandra before retreating to his corner and waiting for everything to start. He heard Nursey before he saw him. That warm laugh filled the room and he whipped his head around just in time to see Nursey enter with his friends. If Dex was being honest it looked like Nursey had not been sleeping, or even resting, at all and it was all his fault. It must have been rough for him having to deal with what Dex had put him through. It must be hell for him, having to avoid his own house because Dex had put him in an uncomfortable position. He couldn’t fault Nursey’s desire to not want to have to face it. That being said, Dex didn’t think he could sit around and wait to find out exactly what he had done. He’d just have to listen to a few poems and disappear before Nursey got up on stage.

Thankfully, Sandra took to the stage and opened up the night, saying a welcome to the patrons and briefly explaining the evening to a few of the new faces in the crowd. Dex was thankful for the familiar. He let himself relax in his corner, knowing Nursey wouldn’t be able to see him. Poetry night would be fine after all, he thought. Or rather, he had hoped. For the first time in weeks Nursey wasn’t going towards the end of the set. He was first. Dex couldn’t escape. He watched Nursey walk to the stage, a weight upon his shoulder, and look down at the crowd.  
  
“Hi guys,” he called out. “This one is called... Dex.”  
  
Dex sucked in a breath. Nursey never named his poems. Never spent the time to title to his poems, thought them unnecessary; and now here he was naming one after him? After everything that happened? Fuck.  
  
“Sitting on top of our usual spot you were listening to me, and even now I cannot recall what was said, but you watched me as if I were precious and I wanted to live suspended on that rooftop for the rest of my days.” Nursey gulped, gripping his paper tighter as it shook slightly between his fingers. “But then you were kissing me, and my skin was on fire, and all the words had left my head. Just as quickly as it began, it was all over. You looked at me with such hope in your eyes and suddenly I did not know what to do. There is a saying, ‘be careful what you wish for’ and in that moment it all became too true... because you were there, with your heart open, and I was miles away. Without words, without reason, without you.”

Clenching his fists Dex tried to dig his nails into his palm to help ground himself, struggling to keep his breath even. Apparently so was Nursey, who was speaking faster with each line.

“I ran. Left you abandoned on that rooftop with no other reason than I was scared. I ran. Not staying to see the smile leave your eyes. I ran. Not coming home that night. I ran and kept running like I have been by entire life,” Nursey paused. “I don’t think I know how to stop anymore. I run and run and run because what if I get what I want? What if I stop, but the world keeps running ahead? What if you race off and leave me in your tracks? I cannot, could not, handle your brand of heartbreak.”  
  
Dex had never seen Nursey so open and exposed. He had little control over his speech, letting his emotions take over, and it was clear to Dex that Nursey still cared about him deeply, and was obviously upset about what had happened. Dex smiled, relieved. Nursey still wanted to let him into his life.

_He just didn’t know how._

“I’m still running from you. From apologising. From arguing. Running to beg you to kiss me again. To the roof that night. To wherever you may be. I pray that you give me a second chance. That you can forgive me. But until then, I’ll do the only thing I know how to do anymore,” Nursey looked up, the pain written all over his face. “I’ll run.”  
  
Not waiting for applause or thanking anyone, Nursey left the stage to join his friends. They simply patted him on the back, a far cry from their usual excitement. Dex didn’t stay to watch the rest. Instead he left the bar, ignoring Rachael’s glare, not caring who saw him leave. He needed to go back to the Haus. He couldn’t sit there and let those words fester inside whilst surrounded by all those people. It ruined poetry night for him, but what else could he do? What was proper etiquette, after Nursey had stood up there and said those words about him? Had officially dedicated a poem to him? He wouldn’t make it out of there without kissing the life out of him. Nursey deserved better.  
  
When he finally got back to the Haus, he crawled into bed and thought about his next line of action. He couldn’t just wing it like last time. He needed a plan. Emotionally overwhelmed, however, he really was asleep before Nursey even arrived home.

 

**_X_**

 

After a week of struggling and a lot of scrunched up pages from his notebook, Dex was finally happy with his plan. He knew trying to talk to Nursey outside of practise or at the Haus was going to be near impossible so he had given up on that idea almost immediately. Instead he decided to play him at his own game. He wasn’t the best writer, but he felt like he had picked up some things over the weeks. Rachael had been a major help. She’d brought Fashia with her on several occasions over the past few weeks, and slowly, Dex’s poem had taken shape. Resolving to ask her about that whenever the opportunity next arose, he strode confidently into the bar at the next poetry night.

Sandra smiled when he approached her and listened to him explain the situation with a glint in her eye. Without questioning it further, she gave him a spot right after Fashia and said that she’d leave his name out of it. She did, however, tell him that if he did well tonight he’d have to make it a regular thing. Dex couldn’t thank her enough. Waving her off, he laughed that he had to see what would happen this time before he could make any promises. He’d probably get booed. She told him none of her patrons would dare and if they did, they’d deal with her.

After getting a shot of liquid courage from Rachael he moved to his table, to hide away until Nursey arrived and settled in. Thankfully he didn’t have to wait long, as Nursey appeared on time with his usual group of friends. He was, Dex thought, nothing if not punctual. Making sure to stay out of the way Dex studied the paper in front of him, hoping that it would be enough to convey his feelings.Rachael had reassured him but... what if it wasn’t? What if Nursey said it was shit and walked out? What if he, worse still, said that Dex had wasted his time, that the situation was too complicated to fix?  Another drink would calm him but he didn’t want to cloud his mind, so he just clenched his fist instead. Sandra darted about the stage some more, and eventually announced that she was about to start the evening.  
  
If he was honest, Dex wasn’t paying attention to any of the pieces tonight. Most of his energy was being used going over the words in front of him and praying that he wasn’t going to fuck up. Once everything had begun he had moved to sit at the bar, since it offered easier access to the stage as well as Dutch courage . Every now and then Rachael would walk by, offering him a smile as good luck. It helped, even if only a little. Before he knew it, Fashia was taking to the stage and he knew he was up next. The hammering in his chest was deafening and the room felt so small... but he knew he had to get up there. He deserved to. When she had finished he applauded with the rest of them and readied himself to walk towards the stage.  
  
“Thank you, Fashia!” Sandra beamed into the microphone. “Now up next, we have a special guest. He’s one of our long time regulars that I have been bugging to join in for months. Quite a lot of you know him already. He came up to me today asking for a slot and once he told me why I couldn’t refuse! So please be nice, guys, and welcome him to the stage!”  
  
As he stepped onto the stage he could see those around him smiling widely. He recognised so many faces and if anything, that only made his anxiety worse. He tried purposefully not to look at Nursey’s table.  
  
“Erm… hi. So as some of you know I’m Dex. This is my first time ever doing something like this. It’s probably going to be awful, so I guess I better get straight to it so we can all move on.” Rubbing the back of his neck, he finally drew his eyes to Nursey’s table. Those brilliant eyes were staring up at him in shock and it took all Dex had not to call out to him. Holding his ground as he spoke , however, he looked right at Nursey as he continued. “This is called: Nameless poems are really confusing and stupid, you know that right?  
  
Each week you step up here and joke about some nameless title and it’s just stupid.” Looking back at his paper he took a deep breath. “Then you come up here and name a poem after me and just when I thought my world was crashing down… you raise me up again. You once asked me where I go every Wednesday night. I’ve been here. Watching you talk about ice and beds and walking away from that rooftop right after I kissed you. About how you avoid me and seek me out. How you annoy me, and I you. I’ve been watching you work yourself up for weeks without realising you were talking about me because you’re a fucking idiot,” Dex laughed. He wasn’t sure how his poem was being received but Nursey hadn’t run yet. With that in mind, it wasn’t going as bad as he had expected it to.

“We’ve had our differences, our fights, our spats, but I have taken on those lessons you gave me,  and tried to mould myself into someone you deserve. Into someone who will never stop trying to learn and accept and grow. I never meant to fall in love with you and yet here I am, reciting crap poetry, because kissing you wasn’t enough. You made me get up out of my chair instead. I really like that chair, Derek.”  
  
Linking eyes with Nursey again, he hoped that these words were conveying every bit of emotion he was trying to portray. That Nursey got it. That he didn’t have to run. That he deserved this, that they could have this. That Dex would never stop trying to prove that he was good enough for him.  
  
“I kept you waiting for so long. Please don’t make me do the same. Stop running. I’m right here.” Folding up his paper he drew his eyes back to the rest of the crowd. “Thank you.”  
  
The crowd applauded and it made the tightness in his chest ease for a second. _At least they liked it. Even if it was terrible,_ _someone had liked it_ _._ As he left the stage, Sandra gave him a soft smile as she went up to continue the rest of the set. What she said was lost to him because, at the bottom of the stairs, he came face to face with Nursey. “Can we go outside?”  
  
Nodding, Dex followed Nursey out of the bar, waving off the thumbs up that Rachael was shooting at him from behind the bar. Outside the air was dry and it made his throat feel tight. He kept following Nursey until they were in an isolated place away from prying eyes. Nursey, however, wasn’t looking at him. Instead he was walking back and forth. Dex couldn’t tell what he was thinking and that, on top of everything else that had happened, wasn’t helping his nerves. He just wished he would say something. “Nursey?”  
  
“You heard it all?”  
  
“What?”  
  
“All the poems,” Nursey clarified, finally stopping to look at him. “You heard them all?”  
  
“Every single one.”  
  
“Even the one where I said-“  
  
“Every single one.”  
  
“Oh.”  
  
“Yeah.”  
  
“And you didn’t say anything?”  
  
“Why would I?”  
  
“Because I was writing about you!”  
  
“I didn’t know that!”  
  
“Oh.” Leaning against the wall next to Dex, Nursey laughed to himself. “You thought I was in love with someone else?”  
  
“Yeah,” Dex sighed. “Well, I did. I thought I had it all figured out when I kissed you though.”  
  
“And then I ran away.” It was a statement, not a question. Dex could tell that Nursey still felt bad about it and he wished he didn’t.  
  
“And then you ran away… but then you named a poem after me.” Turning so he could look at Nursey, Dex sighed. “We’ve done this a bit backwards haven’t we?”  
  
“A little bit.” Nurse reached out to cup Dex’s face. “How about we do it properly this time?”  
  
“Yeah,” Dex breathed.  
  
Then the space between them was gone, and all Dex could care about was the way Nursey’s body was flush against him. The grounding weight of Nursey’s hand upon his hip. He was swallowed up, opening himself to everything that Nursey was offering... and he was ready to do the exact same in return . This kiss was better than the last one. This was like coming home after a long day, the first skate on a freshly zambonied rink, the smell of sea air first thing in the morning. It was like they were coming together for the first time and the hundredth simultaneously . He wanted to keep kissing Nursey for the rest of his days. They remained together afterwards, resting their foreheads together, and just basking in each other’s essence.  
  
“I don’t think I can go back in there.”  
  
“Me neither. Haus?”  
  
“Haus,” Dex beamed as he reached out to take Nursey’s hand to lead them towards home.  
  
When they got home they collapsed as one into Nursey’s bed. Cramped,  on top of one another, but happy. They spent the rest of the night like they would any other after this , swapping stories and stealing hushed kisses. Tomorrow they’d have to talk properly; figure out labels and where they stood but, until the morning, all that mattered was the space between them.  
  
At the next poetry night, Dex didn’t need to sit alone at his corner table in the dark. He sat with his boyfriend. This time, he didn’t have to hide in the shadows when Nursey took to the stage. This time, he knew who the poem was for.

**Author's Note:**

> I actually wrote this months ago and never got around to actually posting it? Oops
> 
> In my mind this takes place well into their third year so they have lived together for awhile now. These boys would need to talk through so much in order to be friends and Dex has to do a hell of a lot of learning first. BUT I didn't really counter that into my fic... which was purely self indulgent and an excuse to put one or two of my poems somewhere less personal. Escapism *finger guns*


End file.
